Where'd ye get tae?
by Ice cream13
Summary: Arthur gets kidnapped, right in front his little brother, Patrick. Patrick seeks the rest of his brothers, Connor, Dylan, and Alistair, to help him find the missing brother. Human AU, human names. Rated T 'cuz I'm paranoid. - -"
1. Act one, Scene one

"I told you I could shoot an arrow straighter!" Patrick smirked proudly at the annoyed look on his brother's face. The blonde was practically fuming at the ears. They were out in the woods, not to far from the small cottage that the oldest brother owned. Patrick had challenged Arthur to see who could shoot an arrow right to the center of the bull's eye. Patrick Kirkland was the youngest of his brothers, before him was Arthur, Connor was the middle child, Dylan was before him, and Alistair was the oldest at 18 years.

"Bugger off, Patrick!" Arthur wailed, tears threatening the corners of his eyes. "Stay away from me!"

"Aw, is Artie crying? Oh, poor baby Arthur!" Arthur's eyes glared up at the insults, then all life had disappeared from them. "Artie?" Patrick walked over to him hesitantly. The fourteen year old held himself still, his cold eyes following his little brother. "H-hey, I didn't mean it..." Patrick leaned forwards, his forehead just an inch from Arthur's nose.

"Boo!" Arthur dropped his hands onto his little brother's shoulders, twisting his face into a hideous expression. Patrick screamed, leaping away, then started to laugh in shock. Arthur raced into the woods, his angered sibling hot on his heels. The two dashed through brambles and around trees with little to no trouble. Patrick was gaining on Arthur when the teen suddenly stopped and held still.

"Patrick, hide." Arthur murmered, surveying their surroundings. Patrick did as he said, slipping behind a tree and casting a concealment charm on himself. He could hear the mutted voices of men, more than two by the sound of it. The muttered stopped, then a second later, three men jumped Arthur, pinning him to the floor. The fourteen year old did his best to break away, but one can't do much about three full grown men.

"Where's the other kid? I saw him a second ago!" One yelled, his masked eyes darting around.

"Chill, Sadik. He probably is going to tell the village that this child is being captured." Another said emotionlessly.

"Maybe not, Heracles." One of the men holding Arthur said quietly.

"What do you mean, Gupta?" Heracles, that's what Patrick thought he was called, said cautiously.

"I can feel magic, Hera." The first one, Sadik, snarled. His eyes landed on a spot about a foot from Patrick, the anger in the brown orbs making the child want to hide forever, if only to avoid the haze.

"Where is it?" Heracles's head jerked to look in the general direction of Patrick.

'Don't see me. Don't see me. Don't see me.' Patrick chanted it his head like a sort of mantra, shivering as the cold eyes washed over him. 'Oh, God, save this child of yours, don't let them see me!' But it was all in vain as Sadik stormed to him and used a hand to wave away the enchantment.

"Gotcha." Patrick froze, eyes wide and mouth open slightly. Arthur jerked violently at the sight of his brother, screaming for him to run while he had the chance. But no matter how much Patrick wanted to, he could not get his legs to move. Sadik reached down and pulled him up by the collar of his shirt. "Hera, look. He's all white. Almost as white as that damn albino."

"Shut it, Sadik, and bring him here." Sadik grumbled under his breath, but did as his companion said, walking to him and dropping the child into his lap. Patrick stared up at Heracles, taking in little details. Pale, brown hair, brown eyes, stoic expression, white shirt, pale brown pants, and that the fairies that usually accompanied people had abandoned this man. "What's your name, little one?"

"Nobody!" Patrick hissed, trying to get out of the man's grasp.

"You think I haven't read Greek Mythology? You can't be Nobody." Amusement shone in Heracles's eyes, and his lips twitched just a bit. "Who are you?"

"I'm the little brother of the one you're hurting. Leave him alone!" Patrick lashed out, a fist slamming into the bigger man's jaw. It didn't do any good.

"Go, tell whoever you want. You're not gonna see your brother again anyway." Heracles stood, tossing Patrick away from him. Patrick stumbled, glancing back at Arthur. The teen let out a hoarse yell, and Patrick took it as permission to run. He darted towards the cottage his family shared, but didn't make it. He tripped over a root, his leg breaking and his head slamming into the floor.


	2. Act one, Scene two

Connor sang softly as he whittled away at a peice of wood. There was no child to sing to sleep, but he didn't mind. Singing always calmed him down somewhat. He wondered, fleetingly, what had happened to his brothers. They were there one second, gone the next.

'Connor!'

The blonde sat bolt up right, eyes widening at the voice of his youngest brother. "Patrick? What's gotten so out of hand you've got to use magic?"

'I fell and broke my leg! Connor, Connor, they took Arthur!'

"C'mere. Ya don't move. I need to put on my runners, then I'll be there. Keep yourself calm and put up a sheild." Connor darted around, pulling on a shirt and pants, covering them with the green cloak most of the brothers had a copy of. Reaching down, he pulled out a pair of boots, before grabbing his knife and hurling himself into the unforgiving woods.

'Where are ya? Where are ya?' Connor's eyes scanned the woods as he ran, doing his best to find his brother. 'Ya can't be that far...'

"PATRICK!" He roared, holding still as it echoed.

"Ah ken wheer ta lad went." Connor whirled around to see Breda, a fairy that had taken a liking to Alistair.

"Right?!" Connor's face split into a grin. "Lead the way, then." She smiled, kissing his cheek before fluttering away. The blonde ran after her, worry and adrenaline making him faster than usual. It took a good ten minutes to reach his brother, and when he did, he was met by a sight no one would want their brother to be in.

Patrick was sprawled across the ground, blood dripping from many scrapes and bruises. Fear had darkened his clear blue eyes, and his mouth was set in a tight grimace. His left leg was twisted akwardly, some of the bone sticking out, with blood coming out of that as well. Tear stains raced down each cheek, and his every breath was shaking and uneven.

"Br...o...th...er." He choked out, shuddering with the effort.

"Hold still." Connor moved to his leg, holding his hands over it and muttering spells under his breath, the magic slowly righting the leg. Patrick whimpered, fingernails scraping at the ground, digging little trenches in the soil.

"There, done. Your leg's little weak, so don't put any pressure on it." Connor yawned, pulling off his cloak to rip it into make-shift bandages. "I'll carry you home, so don't worry." He effortlessly cleaned up the rest of the wounds, blinking wearily. Once he was done, he picked up his little brother, moving him into a more comfortable position on his back. "You good?"

"I am." Patrick nuzzled his brother'a neck, clearing intending to fall asleep.

"Seoithín, seo hó, mo stór é, mo leanbh

Mo sheoid gan cealg, mo chuid gan tsaoil mhór

Seothín seo ho, nach mór é an taitneamh

Mo stóirín na leaba, na chodladh gan brón."

Patrick snored softly, making his brother smile. If only they could always be this nice to each other...

"Patrick." Connor shook his shoulder gently, attempting to wake the boy. "Wake up, I need to go to the village. Hey."

"Fine, I heard you." Patrick turned on his side, trying to get back asleep.

"Don't tell anyone about Arthur until I get back, right?" Connor shook his brother again.

"I won't. Now leave me be, I'm tired." Patrick closed his eyes, passing out almost instantly. Connor stared at him for another minute, then rushed outside to mount one if the two horses their family owned. The other had been taken by Alistair a few days ago, he had to go to a village farther away, to cure someone of a cancerous disease.

Once on the horse, he had it gallop around the woods, patrolling the borders to make sure no one had gotten through with his brother. He asked Breda to get the help of as many fae as she could, seeing as Arthur had very strong magic and it would be a very bad thing if he was lost.

'Damn! Why couldn't Arthur fight them off, he's a good fighter!' Thoughts raced throungh his head at break-neck speed. 'They'd better not do anything to him!'

Coming out of the forest again, he saw a large covered wagon moving away from the forest. He urged the horse to go faster, doing his best to catch up to it. The wagon sped up as well, seeming to want to get away as fast as it could.

"OI!" Connor bellowed, eyes narrowing at it. "Wait up!" The driver looked over the top of the wagon, then slowed the vehicle.

"What do you want?" Connor pulled up beside the wagon, getting off his horse to get closer to the driver. He was expecting a guy, but instead found a girl not much older then him holding the reins. She had long brown hair, sharp green eyes, and a boyish look to her.

"I need to inspect your wagon." Connor fixated a comanding stare on her, his jaw set. She hesitated, then nodded, gesturing for him to go inside. In the wagon there sat paintings, furniture, sacks of gold, and little trinkets. "Sorry about that, I thought- Never mind it doesn't matter."

"Why not?" He glanced up at her words, getting a distrustful look. "Do all the people in this land carry suspicions about traders?"

"We don't. My brother went missing, so I have to check every lead on his where-abouts."

"Oh. I hope you find him unharmed." She grinned. "Oh! Just wondering, have you seen an albino around here somewhere?"

"I haven't." Her shoulders slumped at the answer, and she nodded her head, muttering about having to get somewhere. Connor mounted his horse again, and trotted back home.

**Thank you my beautiful, wonderful, awesome (NOT AS AWESOME AS THE AWESOME PRUSSIA) and reliable sister for editing this! **

**You peeps say thanks if and when you meet Valeria!**


	3. Act one, Scene three

Dylan paced the inside of the small cottage, shooting frustrated looks at the small injured blond laying on the bed. He had gotten home to see him asleep, with several bandages, and a broken leg being healed by magic. The child had woken up not to long after, but refused to tell him what happened, saying only that they had to wait for Connor. Dylan, of course, wasn't very happy, but didn't say anything.

'Maybe I should contact Alistair?' The thought entered his head, and got quite a bit of support, but he decided against it. It probably wasn't worth it, seeing as both Connor and Arthur were gone, the two must be together.

"Won't you tell me anything?" Dylan touched his brother's cheek gently, a worried smile decorating his face. Patrick glanced up at him, then shook his head, sighing. "Why not?"

"I just can't." Patrick huffed, and faced the other direction.

"Come on, Pat, don't be like that." Dylan sat beside him, giving him a hug. "I'm your older brother, you can trust me. And if you want me to keep a secret from Connor and Arthur, I wouldn't ever tell them."

"I won't tell you." Patrick wriggled out of his elder's arms, giving him a glare. "I can't tell anyone yet."

"Yet? So you will tell me?"

"I will. But not now!" The twelve year old stomped off to the room he shared with Connor. "And don't bother asking me again!"

"If you say so." Dylan grinned, jumping up to start on dinner. Better him cook it than Arthur, the lad's food wasn't edible.

"I'm home!" Connor yelled, slamming open the door. Dylan looked at him, but the teen didn't seem to notice him. "C'mere, Patrick! I didn't find them, the only person I saw was a trader, and she was asking about a lost albino. Patrick!" The boy rushed out of his room, the hope in his face fading at his brother's words.

"You didn't..." Patrick mumbled.

"I patrolled the borders and had the fae help. We couldn't find hide nor hair of them, it's like they disapeared off the face of the earth." Connor scowled, frustration written across his face.

"So, now will the two of you tell me what's going on?" The two jumped, having completely forgotten him.

"O-Oh, nothing..." Connor flashed him a guilty grin, Patrick turning around to hide his face.

"Really? You two are acting like you lost Arthur, which is no small feat." They flinched at his words, looking away. "Wait, you didn't actually loose Arthur... Did you?"

"We did." Patrick muttered. "Well, more like I did, but same difference."

"So, why were you hiding it?" Dylan raised an eyebrow, making his brothers shift around uncomfortably.

"W-well, w-we, erm, we-" Connor stuttered, looking everywhere but the blonde. "Erm, I don't- I don't know...?" Dylan shook his head, letting out a disappointed sigh.

"If you had told me earlier that he was missing, we still could have cought up with them!" Dylan scolded. "We lost that advantage when you decided not to tell anyone. Because of you, we may have lost the chance to get Arthur back without Alistair knowing, but now I have to tell him and listen to him rant all night. Then maybe he'll have a plan, and you'd better hope he will, cause otherwise you've lost Arthur forever." The two nodded, the floor suddenly seeming very interesting to them. "You know? You tell Alistair." Both boys tensed, eyes widening.

"Tell me wha'?"

* * *

**Once again, my awesome Sorella, Valaria, did the editing. :3**

**I do not-and never will-own the awesomeness that is Hetalia. Mostly cause a thousand other fangirls would beat me to the chase. :D**

**KK, cya l8r, alig8r!**


	4. Act one, Scene four

"HOW DO YE LOSE A FOURTEEN YEAR OL' LAD?!" Alistair bellowed, his little brothers shaking in fear. "IT SHOUL' NAE BE POSSIBLE, BU' NAE YE HA' TO PROVE ME WRONG!" Patrick shuddered, tears falling down his face. "YE KEN HE HAS NAE POWER OV'R HIS FAE, AN' YE STILL LET THE LAD DISSAPEAR WI'T MEN WHO'R GON HURT HIM!"

"Brother, calm down. It wasn't Patrick's fault, he's still a child, he couldn't do anything to stop him." Dylan said soothingly, rubbing the eldest's shoulders. "Besides, you'll be able to find him in no time, right?"

"Nae." Alistiar muttered, collapsing into a chair. "Nae withou' help, an Ah don' wan' tha'. Geh ta sleep, ye three." He snarled, storming outside. The discriptions of the three men didn't sit well with him, what with the rumors flying around. Those three, the ones who took Arthur, were dangerous in a whole new dimension. Once they caught you, you were most likely going to be found face down in a gutter, with a brand on you.

"Alistair? You should rest as well." The redhead glanced at Dylan, who stood in the doorway.

"Nae." He turned back to the stars green eyes searching them for something.

"Then, can you tell me why it's going to be so hard to find him?" Dylan stepped up next to him, giving him a gentle smile. Alistair ruffled his hair, something he usually reserved to tease Arthur with.

"Ye di' nae recognize the names?" Dylan shook his head, interest sparkling in his eyes. "Sadi', Heracles, Gupta. Those thrae. They woul' be the ones who ta'e people fer slaves." Dylan's breathe hissed through his teeth, his blue eyes widening.

"Then shouldn't we go try to find them immediately?" He nearly shouted.

"Nae. We woul'nae be able ta fin' them in the dar', an besides, Ah nee' ta geh help. He's the only one who has ever come close ta fin'ing a bairn they've taken. An he's a goo' source o' information, if he wan's ta tell." Alistair sighed, and patted his brother's shoulder. "Geh tae sleep." Dylan's mouth opened and closed several times, before he shut it for good and slipped back inside. Alistair watched the stars a while longer, then followed him.

* * *

**Ah, my awesome sister edited this again. I love her so much! :3 **

**Um, I don't own Hetalia, or anyone in this story. Though, if it were up to me, if I could just meet them... I would glomp China, tell Prussia how awesome he is, smother France with kisses, bake pasta with Italy, annoy Norway with Denmark, and fangirl with Hungary and Japan over shippings. . **

**Until next chapter! **


	5. Act one, Scene five

**Sorry for the wait!**

* * *

Patrick looked at the ground, anger and guilt flooding through him. _Why the hell hadn't he ran after those gits that took Arthur? He should have been chasing after them! They would never find Arthur, he heard Alistair say it last night._

_Shut up, think positive, you git! We're going to find him! _Pulling his gaze off his feet, he looked up at Alistair, who was explaining something to Dylan. _They'll never forgive me. _He sighed, and turned his eyes back to the road. _Not ever._

"Ye okay?" Patrick froze at the sound of his eldest broter's voice, stiffening just a bit when he felt the hand fall onto his shoulder.

"I'm fine." He muttered, too ashamed to look at Alistair.

"Ah donnae blame ye," the redhead said. "Any one person besi'es me woul' hav' dun the same." Patrick's blue eyes widened, and he hesitantly looked at Alistair's green ones. "Ah ken ye are nae goo' at yer magi', an' Ah ken Arthur was in 'trouble. Bu' yer own li'e cooms before others, save him only if ye can save yerself af'er." Alistair smiled a little, pulling the blonde into a one-armed hug. "Chin-oop, bairn. We go' a long way ta go."

"Yes, brother!" Patrick perked up, grinning widely. "Will do!"

* * *

"Oi! Open the door, ye nuisance!" Alistair hollered. He was pounding on the door of a small cottage, near the edge of a village they had walked through earlier. "Tis ba' enough ye hi'e a' the way a' the en' of a village, bu' ta nae give me ye a'ress!" Patrick giggled, but he stopped it at the thought that maybe Arthur wasn't doing well enough to laugh with him.

"Oui, oui, I'm coming!" The door was thrown open to show a slightly irritable blonde. "Alistair. I 'aven't seen you een ages, mon ami." Patrick took one look at the well kept, shoulder-length, styled hair - and cracked up laughing. His brothers - and the man - stared at him as though he had grown himself a second, even a third maybe, head without magical help.

"H-hair!" He howled, falling to his knees. "S-so much h-hair!" Connor glared at him, then turned to look more closely at the man. Deeming it hilarious, he started allowed himself a scoff.

"If your frère has nozing more zen to laugh at my 'air, zen leave moi alone!" The man snarled, blue eyes sparkling in anger.

"Donnae be li'e tha', Fran. Ah nee' yer hel', an' Ah dinnae thin' anyone woul' be able ta as well as ye." Alistair reached his hands out to the man, wrapping him in a hug. "Besi'es, we nee' ta spen' some time ca'ching oop, jus' ye an' me." The blonde hesitated, then smiled returning the hug.

"Oui, oui, mon ami. I will 'elp you out. Come een, come een." The brothers marched in, Alistair and Dylan smiling a little at him, Connor and Patrick regarding him with amusement.

The man's home was tidy, small, yes, but very cozy. The smell of baked goods seemed to invade every coner of the house, relaxing Patrick to a degree that almost scared him.

"I like your house, mister!" He said cheerfully. "If you didn't have weird hair and a strange accent, I think I wouldn't mind living here." Patrick's brothers laughed, and the blond man couldn't help but laugh along.

"Big brother wouldn't mind you staying 'ere eizer." He pulled Patrick into a hug, cuddling him. "You look troubled, ees zere somezing ze matter?"

"There- there is... I kinda lost my older brother." He blond man tensed, then pulled Patrick to a chair.

"Moi name ees Francis Bonnefoy," Francis pronounced his last name as _bon-FWAH_, "I am un operator for zis village, zo I 'ear much gossip. What ees ze name of zis frère?"

"His name is Arthur." Connor said, eyeing Francis suspiciously. The blonde nodded, and rushed out of the room. "What makes you think we can trust him?"

"He an' Ah have been frien's since as lon' as Ah care tae recall." Alistair glanced around, before his eyes landed on Patrick. "Ye alrigh'?"

"I'm fine, I think." The redhead nodded distractedly. The brothers sat in silence for a couple more minutes before Francis came back in.

"'Ere ees ze zing. Zere 'ave been many enfants zat 'ave been stolen." Francis stood at the head of the table, his face set in a frown. "Zey are; Lukas -_ 'ides all 'is emotion _-, Antonio - _a close friend of mine_ -, Tino - _Berwauld must be so scared_ -, Gilbert - _'e 'as such a polite little frère_-, Lovino - _poor, poor, Lovino _-, Feliciano - _Lovino's frère_ -, Kiku, Yao, Im Yong Soo - _all trois frères_ -, and a little lady named Lili. At least, zat's all ze ones discussed over ze phone."

"Than' ye, Franny." Alistiar stood, hugging Francis again.

"Non, non, mon cher. I must do what I can for mes amis." The blonde have a weak smile, then turned to face the rest of the brothers. "Would you like to spend ze night? I 'ave enough rooms to fit us all."

"Nae, Franny, we have tae go noo." Francis sighed, but nodded, ascorting them to the door. He hugged Alistiar again, then nodded to Dylan and Connor. Patrick, however, he stopped at the door.

"May I 'ave a word?" Patrick tilted his head, but nodded anyway. "I didn't tell Alistiar, but... My petit frére... 'is name ees Matthieu... S'il vous plaît, find 'eem, s'il vous plaît!" The man's eyes watered, and Patrick betiefly wondered if he was going to cry.

"Yea, don't worry, we'll find them, Mr. Bonnefoy." Putting on (what he hoped was) a reassuring smile, Patrick leaned forward to give Francis a hug. "We'll find all the missing children, don't you worry!" He felt Francis nodded, and he pulled back. "See you around, and don't let someone mess up your horrendous hair!" Patrick bolted, laughing loudly at the stream of French he recieved as a response. "Let's go!"

* * *

**You should be able to tell what the French is, and, ah... I got this off Google translate, correct me if anything wasn't translated right... I hope I didn't make France's accent too... Weird... **

**As always, I don't own Hetalia. _*sobs* _And my lovely big sister proof-read this. Arigato, Ane-ue!**


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